Returning In Exile
by Iliya Moroumetz
Summary: The short span of a life Shinji knew before his father summoned him to Tokyo-3 in a few pages...


[In middle of a Kyoto suburb street, Warhammer, dressed in casual clothes, is enjoying a walk as the sun is setting.]  
  
WH: Always be prepared for the best and expect the worst even more. Because one is never going to be sure if one will be able to handle it.   
  
TWHammer presents  
  
Returning in Exile  
  
A Neon Genesis Evangelion work of fanfiction  
  
  
"It never changes..." the fourteen-year-old Shinji Ikari whispered to no one in particular. From his position on his bed, the sun was glaring in his eyes, but he didn't care. Ever since he had gotten that letter, all rhyme and reason seemed to vanish before they could even take shape. He had never expected such a thing in all of his life. Ever since he was four, he had expected nothing good to come to him at all. To others, he was a recluse from other children, silent, aloof, and given in to despair.   
  
Worse yet, his guardian at the moment also seemed to be silenced by the contents of the aforementioned letter. A kindred spirit, Yuko Aso, seemed to lose all communication with her charge. To think that several months ago, they seemed like family to each other - in an unusual way.   
  
Whenever most other people saw them, they kept their distance and said nothing, for fear of being on the receiving end of Yuko's infamous, violent, and explosive anger. The fact that she was in her early fifties, never married, and socially rejected did not help her disposition at all.   
  
It was to this cause that others had hoped to wrest Shinji out of her care, for they thought that he had been abused because of her attitude. However, she had been given permission to take care of him by his father, and due to that there were no signs of physical or emotional abuse; they were unable to do anything. Shinji also felt strangely comfortable with this anti-socialist. To him, she understood.  
  
They were never like the 'ideal' family that many people saw on television sitcoms before the Impact, nor did they want to be. It seemed too superficial and distorted from the cruel reality that they preferred. This was far from saying that they were incapable of showing affection; it was just something they showed in surreptitious ways.  
  
*  
  
Shinji was only eight years old when he had run from his aunt and uncle's house. Though he was grateful for all the care they had given him, he could not help but feel that in small and inconspicuous ways, they didn't want him. That small study house they made for him for example. True, it did serve a purpose for a while, but the isolation had gotten to him, yet whenever he tried to do something else, they simply sent him off somewhere else to spend time with their own children.   
  
Another irritant was all the smiles they seemed to plaster onto their faces to make themselves appear cheerful and nice. He didn't like it at all. Those smiles were shallow to him and the sincere ones were reserved for his cousins. He was a liability to them and they were supposed to take care of his needs like some dumb animal. Like that time he had been brought in for taking an abandoned bike and had been accused of stealing. His aunt had said that all he had to do was ask for one and they would have gotten the money for a new bike. It wasn't the bike he wanted. It had nothing to do with the bike!   
  
Why didn't anyone understand him? Yet, why should they bother? He was a cast-off. Abandoned by his father only a few years before. No one ever wanted the loser, the castaway, the loner, or the fatalist. So, he did the only thing he could do.  
  
He ran away again.   
  
At an old bus stop, he sat behind the bench, trying to meld into the scenery and appear as if he was not there. The sooner the bus came, the better he'd like it. He had no idea where to go, he just needed to go somewhere else but here. For the first time, a shadow loomed over him that didn't hold the condescension of most others. Shinji looked up to see an old woman, withered with age, hardened by isolation, and weary with apathy.   
  
She knelt down to him, and asked quietly, "you running away too?" Her eyes were tired, but full of comprehension.   
  
Shinji nodded once, "I don't like my home."  
  
The older woman absorbed his words and replied, "It must be a very bad home if you ran away from it."  
  
"No, it was nice and stuff... but it wasn't my home."  
  
"Who's home was it?"  
  
"My aunt and uncle's home. Though it is a nice place, it's not my home."  
  
The older woman tilted her head, "What about your mother and father?"  
  
Shinji frowned, stood up, and slumped on the bench, "My mom's dead and my dad never wanted me."  
  
The older woman stared at him as his apparent dislike of the past became more evident. It was ironic that she felt the same thing though her circumstances were different than his.   
  
"What is your name, young man?"  
  
Shinji continued to stare forward, "Shinji Ikari. My father's name is Gendou."  
  
She nodded back, "I'm Yuko Aso."  
  
She turned her gaze from him momentarily, as if she had heard the name before, "How long have you been separated from your parents?"  
  
Shinji turned up to meet her tired gaze, "Why are you asking me all this?"  
  
She shrugged, "It's not everyday you meet someone that understands what you've been through." She sat down beside him and sighed as the old wood groaned under her lightweight. "I was abandoned too. I grew up living a lie and I was a bit older than you when I learned the truth."  
  
She rested her chin on her hands and continued, "It hurts like nothing else. Worse than being lied to, being betrayed, or much worse then being used. It says everything you do has meant nothing and when you're gone, you'll be forgotten."  
  
Though the truth of her words were nothing new to him, he felt himself more curious to learn about someone who knew so much about how he felt.   
  
"What's the kanji in your name mean?"  
  
Yuko turned to the young boy in surprise and answered, "It means 'excellent child'. My 'parents' thought a lot of me and so they wanted the best for me. Still, the fact of the matter was that they never were my parents. And so, when I finally figured out what to do, I ran away."  
  
She added sardonically; "I don't suppose I need to bore you with the details, because you already know."  
  
With a small smile, Shinji nodded and turned back to the sun. The glare was not so much upsetting as was the shadows that were beginning to creep up on the bench. It was almost like they were reaching for him in a nightmare that he could still recall from his younger years.   
  
Yuko broke the silence of the dusk with her next question, "How do you intend to survive all by yourself when you've separated yourself from your family?"  
  
Shinji suddenly tensed. She had brought to light one of the many things that he had not considered in his haste to get away from his mom's relatives. He had no answer for her, nor would he.   
  
The roar of the bus' engine seemed like a godsend at first, but now it was like a entrance to a trap he could never escape. She stood up and continued, "I don't blame you, though. Better to live than to simply exist. So, you going or not?"   
  
With a sigh of resignation, he shook his head. Her face remained neutral as the door to the bus opened and some of its occupants exited.   
  
"Think about it, Shinji. When you find the answer, you'll know," she said plainly as she walked onto the bus. He looked up to see her take her seat and see the bus door close. He watched the bus drive away and another half an hour later decided to go home.   
  
*  
  
For a long while, Shinji never saw the stranger that had befriended him briefly. Henceforth, his memory of that one moment of understanding with a kindred spirit was beginning to fade. Until one day, on his way home from school, he noticed the same name of the person he had met at the map of the district on the other side of his school.   
  
Driven by curiosity, he walked slowly through the winding roads of the block and to be where Yuko Aso lived... at least, that's what the map said.   
  
The house seemed well kept, but silently cold from the outside. Even in the humid summer, it seemed cold and unwelcome to most people. The grass was cleanly cut, the stone path was arranged flawlessly, and most would consider it taken care of by a master.   
  
At times, Shinji felt envious of her, though he didn't know why. Just being left alone had its appeal for the many times he felt rejected by his peers.   
  
"GET LOST!"  
  
Shinji jumped as he saw a man running for dear life out of the property as several large and heavy looking rocks nearly hit him. The same woman that he had met at the bus stop a few weeks before, with an enraged snarl on her face, whirled her arm and threw the man's briefcase at him as he was about to turn a corner.   
  
"And if you even dare try to come back, I'll call the police!"  
  
Hiding behind another wall, Shinji held his breath as he heard Yuko stomp back into her house and slam the door shut. He exhaled as the quiet returned and made his way home. Now he was starting to understand why there were so many mean rumors about her. However, upon examining the scattered contents of the man's briefcase, Shinji noticed that the man was just a door-to-door salesman. Though he didn't really know or care about them, his aunt and uncle were a bit more tactful when dealing with salesmen.   
  
Fearing that he was being watched from inside the house, Shinji walked as stealthily away as a ten-year-old boy could.  
  
Things went on as usual with no change for another month or so; until he had overheard his aunt and uncle purposely speaking in hushed tones. Though he couldn't understand most of what they were saying, he did however, get the basic idea.   
  
"I can't believe his father's going to let Shinji into the custody of 'that' woman," Shinji's aunt said with a hushed tone.   
  
Shinji's uncle nodded in agreement and replied as silently, "We can't do anything about it though. Both his father and she have come to a formal agreement."   
  
"Yes, but 'her'? We may as well be giving him to a criminal. I've heard rumors about her, you know. Some said that she was in jail a long time ago and her record was erased because she has friends in high places. A few have said that she murdered her best friend in high school over something kept quiet. I will not let Shinji be given to a monster like her!"  
  
"I feel the same way you do, but we really have no choice in the matter."  
  
He padded away from his parents and back to his room where he mulled over this new bit of news that was going to change his life again.   
  
Though he would have been happy to get away from his relatives, he did not enjoy the thought of being placed into the same situation as he was in now. What scared him were those rumors his aunt had said. He never could tell if any of the gossip he often heard was real or not. As to who this person was, Shinji could only wonder. If it was someone his father approved of, they must be better than what his aunt and uncle thought, but then again, he could be wrong.  
  
There would be little to no point in complaining, so he simply went along as usual as the day of transfer came.   
  
In a near vacant room on the second floor of the city hall, Shinji gaped at whom he saw inside. His father, Gendou Ikari and the same woman that he had seen only a few months ago. His father and Yuko only stared at each other like a pair of scorpions, ready, able, and almost willing, to tear the other apart. It turned out that his father knew Yuko very well when they were both younger.   
  
Taking a casual glance at Shinji, then back to his father, Yuko commented, "I never would have thought it would have been your son, Rokubungi. Considering that you're that same little prick I knew back in high school, I never thought you had the balls to get married and have a kid."  
  
"Flattery will get you nowhere, senpai." Gendou retorted calmly.   
  
Looking down to a sheet of paper on the table, Yuko continued, "So, all we need is his present guardian's signatures and we are all set?"   
  
Gendo nodded, "Yes, but I never thought you would be the kind to take care of a child. Even more so that I asked you."  
  
Yuko snorted, looking over the contract again, "You thought wrong, like always."  
  
"A rare exception actually, but anyway, you're well enough off financially?"  
  
"All my finances are in order and I have enough in reserve should anything bad happen."  
  
"And if it exceeds your expectations?"  
  
Yuko threw Gendo a hateful glare and said with an 'as a matter of fact' tone, "Then I'll just have to work harder then, won't I?"  
  
Shinji was surprised; his aunt and uncle were not. To say they were quite displeased at this recent turn of events would have been an understatement. They opened up with their objections to turning over guardianship of Shinji to Yuko without hesitation.   
  
"Gendo, I still can't believe that you're choosing this woman over us for Shinji's sake. He needs someone that can take care of him, not this," Shinji's aunt said gesturing to Yuko.  
  
Yuko raised an eyebrow, "And you two are?"  
  
Shinji's aunt looked as if she had been slapped on the face. To be addressed so bluntly by someone as base as the infamous Yuko Aso was insulting.   
  
"From what I've heard, we're certainly more capable than you."  
  
Yuko smiled at Shinji's aunt's words. "From what you've heard? I couldn't care less about what you've heard. In case you're forgetting, we're talking about the boy, here. I only spent a few hours with him and I can already tell that a stray animal would have been treated better."  
  
Shinji's aunt and uncle buckled under Yuko's relentless glare. "And considering the fact that he was about to run away says even about how well you treated him. If you can drive a ten year old boy to run away from what you call affection, I shudder to think of what you'd consider love."  
  
"Senpai, there's no need for further argument," he turned to Shinji's present guardians, "You can sign here and complete the transfer."  
  
Reluctantly, they signed and within an hour, Shinji's few belongings were placed into the small car Yuko had and drove away.   
  
*  
  
In the car, Shinji spied a look at her aged face and recalled the rumors he had heard. They almost seemed true of who Yuko was, but somehow, he had doubts about them. When she looked at him, he could see the animosity, resentment, and bitterness. Yet, there was also a familiarity behind all that pain she carried. It was probably the reason why he was silently grateful for this new transfer.   
  
To Shinji's confusion, they didn't return to the house that he had seen her toss out the salesman. Yuko later explained that the house he saw was a Government Issue for her when the Second Impact ended and had kept in good condition after she had purchased it.   
  
"Three years ago, I moved south to Kansai where I was able to get a job working as a file clerk for the airport. I only visit the house during my time off. It's one of the few things I bother to take care of anymore."  
  
A few hours later, they had reached the outskirts of Osaka and pulled up to a standard yet well kept house that held nothing truly spectacular when compared with the other houses. However, it was much cozier than the foreboding house he had first seen her live in.  
  
Carrying his bag of clothes, Yuko said as they reached the door, "I'll be honest with you, Shinji. I've never taken care of someone as young as yourself. Never thought I would either. And for all I know, I may be making a big mistake in doing this."  
  
She opened the door and smiled a bit, "Somehow, even if it was a mistake, I wouldn't mind it."  
  
*  
  
A year passed and Shinji slowly fell into a routine with Yuko of living in near silence most of the time. Most would consider this a lack of communication; yet, it was quite to the contrary. It was like speaking a whole different language when comprehension made words meaningless. In spite of the ever present silence, she was able to surprise him once in a while with unexplained kindness.  
  
What surprised him most was what she had done on his twelfth birthday. He had expected nothing from her and had made it clear that he really wanted nothing of his own. However, when he had gotten home from school, he noticed that she had gotten home early and sat on a chair with a package by her feet.   
  
Yuko's usual morbid silence was replaced with a warm smile and a soft 'Happy Birthday, Shinji.'   
  
Shocked as Shinji was, he slowly advanced forward and looked towards the package. It was a bit smaller than his size, but he already had a good idea what it was. Looking for approval to open, she nodded. Opening the present, he found something that he would learn to endear.   
  
It was a finely polished cello. Made of well-kept Flame Maple wood and polished to perfection, Yuko had chosen that particular instrument after hearing of Shinji's skill with the used school instruments.   
  
He wanted to have one of his own for practice at home and also wanted it so he could play with Yuko as she played her piano in the study. Yet, he felt that his presence in her home was a burden enough as it was. Though the desire for one still existed inside him, he made sure to keep it hidden.   
  
"You can practice at home and not have to worry about bringing one home from school," she said simply.   
  
Finding the right words hard to come by, Shinji stammered, "But... this kind of wood is real hard to come by. How... why..."  
  
Yuko's smile persisted as she reached forward and cupped Shinji's face with her hands. "I was able to buy it, that much I'll say. As for why I did it... do I really need a reason?"  
  
Shinji then felt embarrassed at her uncharacteristic kindness. It never occurred to him that she might have considered him as something more than a ward. It was almost as if she considered him to be her son.   
  
They often shared their duties in taking care of the house and other duties. He had a feeling that they both needed to do their part if they wanted to continue to survive, however, the situation never got that dire. To see her to go so far as to provide him with the instrument that he had grown to love the year before had left him speechless.   
  
"You can play your cello with me when I play my piano. How does that sound?"  
  
*  
  
Returning to the present, Shinji felt that the past few years was nothing more than a blur. So much had happened. They had progressed from being a guardian and ward to friends.   
  
Now, instead of the comfortable silence he had gotten used to, all that replaced was a tense quiet. All that they had built upon was abruptly shattered when they both read the letter's contents.  
  
That letter... that letter that had just come in the mail... the letter with his father's name and address on it... the letter which turned out to be a summons for him to come to Tokyo-3 as soon as possible. Though Shinji had the option of refusing, he could not. He hadn't told Yuko yet, but he had a feeling that she already knew his answer.   
  
Getting to his feet from the bed, he walked slowly to the small room on the other side of the house that he and Yuko had often played their instruments. He saw her sitting silently at her piano, quiet as death, with one hand over the middle C key.   
  
His cello lay on the ground by the closet behind the piano and almost beckoned him to open it up to play with Yuko's piano. Without a word, he opened up the case, placed the piece of rubber on the floor to prevent it from slipping, tuned the strings, and turned to his guardian.   
  
Seeing his reflection in the mirror for an instant, she returned her attention to the piano and started to play. It only took Shinji a few notes to know what exactly she was playing: Jeux D' eau. He knew that the title was French, but he didn't know what it meant, nor did he care. All that mattered was the song they had learned to play to near perfection during the last two years was one of the things which broke up the monotony.   
  
Soon after, he joined in. The song was somber, if anything else. Shinji had practiced with other songs, but they always seemed to try to hard to be happy or upbeat for his tastes. He had found a lot of decent operettas, but somehow; the subdued nature of this particular song removed whatever worry he had to vanish for a short while. A pitiful respite to say the least.   
  
Too soon the song had ended. And as the evening started to enter the room, Shinji let his gaze sit upon his guardian, who remained still on the piano bench. He wasn't scared of the silence at all, but it was her inaction, which gave him a little bit of anxiety to control.   
  
"You're going to go, aren't you?" she whispered silently. Outside, no one would have heard her, but in that silent house, it seemed louder than thunder.   
  
"Yes," he replied silently.   
  
For minutes that seemed to stretch into hours, silence reigned. She didn't sound angry, disappointed, or anything that he could tell. Shinji did not want to leave her, but he had this innate sense of duty within to tell him to go. For the past five years, he had felt like himself instead of some clone to be melded into society. Now, all of it seemed to mean nothing from one single summon. He would go to Tokyo-3.   
  
"I'll make the arrangements." She continued before standing up and walking to the main room. She didn't look at him at all, and he couldn't blame her.   
  
*  
  
A few days later, Shinji had received another letter from a person by the name of Misato Katsuragi, which gave him instructions to open a secondary letter once he got to the city. His things were packed and sent in advance by mail. His train ticket was purchased and ready to be used.   
  
Many people were coming and going to whatever business they had inside the city, but they seemed phony to Yuko and Shinji as they entered the platform to the train.   
  
Within minutes, the train heading for Tokyo-3 came and people came pouring out of it like breaking dam. As the last of the people exited, Yuko knelt in front of her charge, took him gently by the shoulders, held him close, and whispered,   
  
"Don't come back, Shinji."  
  
She let go, stood up, and walked away.   
  
Shinji gaped after her as she walked up the stairs and to the walkway that led out of the station. He almost missed the train as he ran through the doors.   
  
Taking a seat in the near empty rail car, he let those three painful words sink into him like a poison. It only leads to the idea that he came up before - he was never wanted in the first place.   
  
He leaned against the seat, letting his head droop to his chest, and sighed. It seemed like lot in life was to be tossed to the will of the four winds and he could do nothing to prevent it.   
  
*  
  
Opening the door to her home, Yuko let her shoes fall into the genkan with a thud.   
  
He was gone.   
  
The first person she learned to care about in over thirty years was gone.   
  
She had been used to the cold and bitter isolation for so long, and now she had the misfortune to try and act human again. Had it been ten years earlier, she was have scoffed at the very mention of the thought of civility. The only truths this two-bit world taught her were 'kill or be killed' and 'take what you can, when you can'. And here she was, acting like she was the boy's mother.  
  
Forcing a scowl, Yuko hit the wall with a clenched fist. She never should have gone back for that little runt when she left him at the bus stop. To make it even better, he had to be the kid of the classmate she loathed.   
  
She hated them both. She hated seeing Rokubungi's smug and superficially calm face. She hated Shinji for interfering with her misery. How dare he to be placed on her shoulders when his aunt and uncle didn't have the capacity to take care of him right. There were many things she hated, for there was much in the world to hate.   
  
Yet, she hated herself most of all.   
  
Whispering every foul word she knew, she leaned her arms against wall and struck it again with her fists. She forced herself to her feet as she started sliding against the wall to her room. There was a sharp pain in her chest that wouldn't go away and it was making her sniff and cough. Worst of all, her eyes were beginning to sting.   
  
For thirty-five years, she tried so hard to keep it all bottled inside. Fine job she did, apparently. Now, here she was, ready to bawl like a baby over a stupid little kid...   
  
...a stupid little kid that reminded her what it was like to be human.  
  
...a stupid little kid that reminded her of the chance she had at one point. A chance to move on and let the past remain as it should be.   
  
Damn her pride! She was so wrapped up in her misery that she had neither the courage nor the strength to just let the hurt go.   
  
Now, it was too late. The curse had been cast and now both of them would continue to merely 'exist'.   
  
Existence, in her experience, was not a life at all, but a hell where nothing changed for the better or worse. There was no point to it and no escape from it.   
  
Feeling her knees weaken, she collapsed face first on her bed and allowed salty tears that she thought had long since dried up to flow freely.   
  
Curling into a fetal position, she whispered, "It never changes..."  
  
The end.  
  
[Outside, WH is walking away quietly.]  
  
WH: Being the second draft, I didn't think it was necessary to change everything about the story and notes. Yet, I added enough new stuff to think it was worth posting.   
  
I'm almost embarrassed by saying this, but the character Yuko Aso came from a little known game series called "Valis". Rightfully so, because the games weren't all that great, but it's stuck with me all these years, so I thought what the heck, "I need someone to be the embodiment of self-loathing, bitterness, and resentment." It also should be noted that what happens to her in this fic has hardly anything to do with the games. Also, I don't think this could be called a cross-over... or would it? I guess you can say it isn't because most of everything has something to do with EVA, yet the element of the other character is significant enough so that you could call it one. I'm so confused...   
  
An important thing to note is that this fic is the prequel to a fic I'm going to rewrite, some of you older folk out there know this as that piece of crap called 'Seraphim's Judgment'. Like I said in another chapter that I put out recently, 'I really had no idea what I was doing.' It has no real important ties to other fics for the time being and I think it can be done. So, start packing up the Prozac and Valium!  
  
Oh, in addition, special thanks goes out to a one 'Sparky Clarkson' for writing 'Ascent of the Fallen', which not only takes the series on an upturn from the down that the director put it in, but actually makes all the Christianity jargon sensible! I applaud you, Mr. Clarkson.  
  
Let us not forget that EVA and everything related to it belongs to Studio Gainax and Yuko belongs to Telenet. I get no cash from this, henceforth, no reason for lawsuit. Jeux D'eau belongs to the wonderful folks that write the music for Cirque De Soleil. In case you want to hear it, get the 'O' album. It's odd music, but worth a listen.   
  
Extra special thanks to Sparky Clarkson and Miashara for providing the feedback for the first draft.   
  
Well, I'm going to go out to try and continue to prove my semi-pointless existence by writing more fanfiction. Or get really bored, busy, or blocked in the process.   
  
[Runs away before he gets depressed even more.] 


End file.
